Mind Over Matter
by MysticDayze
Summary: What happens when an immortal's body is destroyed? They find a new resting place, of course. The odyssey of a young woman and her companions who find themselves in the middle of a murderous plot to destroy all of the nations. Rated T for graphicness/violence as well as language and some crude references
1. Chapter 1

**Rated Teen For Graphic Gore/Blood Violence and Language**

**Thanks for reading and enjoy the ride**

* * *

"Hey baby!"

Wolf whistles. Great; just what I needed on this "wonderful day."

"Why did I wear a skirt into town? Tell me why…" mumbled under my breath with a mental eye roll. _By the way, that was rhetorical, pal._

"Hey! Wait up pretty lady!" The boy ran up to me grinning and blocked my path. He was approximately thirteen, innocent but obnoxious by his looks. The group of boys by the ice cream shop obviously belonged to him; they were laughing and looking in our direction.

"Yo baby, are your legs tired; cause you've been running through my mind all day!~"

_Wanker._

He was showing off his swagger and such, which was funny because he looked more than a little ridiculous. I'm pretty sure backwards yankee hats, saggy jeans and family guy tee shirts went out of style as soon as the notion for them was conceived. This whole ritual was only slightly more idiotic than my BFF's "dance to attract the opposite gender."

_Oh shut up, Iggy._

"Well, I'll give you points for not using the "did you just fart" pick up line, but I must say that your whole presentation lacks quite a bit to be desired. Morons like you need to be more original in order to genuinely impress a girl, otherwise women will be attracted to you sheerly out of pity." I smiled sweetly and talked in a higher pitch than usual. Of course, my voice almost always got higher when talking to strange people and trying to summon up courage. Like, Spanish oral exams… for instance.

"Hey babe, don't blame me! The voices in my head were telling me to flirt with you!"

At this point in our "conversation", I had already turned and started walking away, but I now flipped myself around and walked back to face him.

"Really? Interesting! The voice in my head is telling me to backhand you acrass the face while calling you a bloody bugging pervert, then draw the union jack on your unconscious face in sharpie. He also wants me to hurry up this conversation so we can go eat scones and drink tea at Chez Alice then work on mah grammaticlical skills. _My _voice's name is Arthur, what's yours'? I bet he's not as cool and doesn't take over your body while you sleep causing you to wake up with the taste of burnt fish in your mouth and no recollection of how it got there. No? I didn't _think _so. Bye bye, dear friend and watch your back in dark alleyways." Finishing my long monologue in once breath with triumphant satisfaction, I turned once again and began skipping away, leaving an open mouthed teen boy gaping on the sidewalk.

* * *

It wasn't far to Chez A's, but as soon as I was out of sight of the boys on the corner, the mental barrage started.

_What was that! You didn't have to tell them everything! What did I tell you about keeping this whole thing a secret!_

"Aw come off it Arthur. Considering that they probably just think I'm a mental patient, nothing's been leaked. Besides, you DID tell me to slap him…" It was a soft murmur and unnecessary since we could talk by just think speaking to each other. Still, talking to myself made me feel less crazy… somehow.

_I didn't tell you to draw a flag on his face missy! You stole that idea from the Power of One!_

"Damn right I did."

_That is terrible grammar and you know it! By the way, I only took control of you one time. I was hungry._

"For burnt mackerel? Arthur, it took a full bottle of Listerine and two poor tooth brushes to get that taste out of my mouth! And I couldn't get the stink out of my skin either, pal. Three days! Three days until I stopped smelling like fish."

_If you keep this talking to yourself up, you'll be committed. _

"That's what I'm hoping for-"

"Hey!"

_Him again?_

Great, the boy I'd freaked out was back… which was unexpected. He was panting; he must have had to sprint to catch up to me. What can I say? I have long legs and a fast gait. Plus, the guy was pretty short… actually I only just now realized how short he was. Wow, I must have REALLY been having a bad day to not notice he'd been a dwarf the entire time we were "chatting."

"Hey, I. Just wanted. To ask. You. A question…"

"Ok… shoot."

"Do you know anyone by the name of Arthur Bernard Kirkland?"

"… No…" Sure, I knew an Arthur Kirkland but…

_Arthur… is he… is he talking about you?_

…

_Arthur?_ I gasped as something strange happened. When I looked into the boy's eyes, I noticed that his irises, which had previously been light brown, were now a shade of bright blue. The world suddenly blurred and slowed down around us and I felt a panic that wasn't my own and could hear my heart beat spiraling out of control. It was as if I was spinning with my feet off the ground and I couldn't move my own body. I didn't like that feeling, no not at all.

"Ar-Arthur!" I gasped. I couldn't hear my own voice and my mouth wasn't moving according to my reflection in the shop window. "What's going on!" The world spun faster beneath my feat and it felt as though I needed to puke, but couldn't.

"How does he know my full name?" My voice spoke on its own and thundered in my ears. The shop window said I was speaking, but I sure as hell hadn't said anything.

"I'm right here, Arthur." The boy said, with the same thundering loudness.

I felt myself jump and the dizziness only escalated. "Arthur! What's going on- the hell?" My head turned and noticed its reflection in the window.

"Oh my God. Baby I am so sorry!" I said. Only it wasn't me. I didn't have bright green eyes. Arthur did. Arthur was channeling through me. Fu-

BAM! It was like I smacked into a brick wall, but at least I could feel the world around me again. That didn't keep me from falling, though. The boy didn't look too good either.

_Baby, I didn't mean for that. I'm so sorry._

His apology was cut short.

_Arthur, so it **is** you._

I didn't recognize that voice. It didn't feel like Arthur. It wasn't.

_Arthur who is this? What's going on?_

…

_Arthur?_

_So, you're dead too…**Alfred**… _


	2. Chapter 2 Blondie

**Quick update and long chapter. Still some explaining, action will start in the next chappy. Please Review and I love you all!**

**Enjoy.  
**

* * *

I first realized something was different six months ago when my friends and I were rocking out on Rin's ukelele. Now, I admit I'm not a horrible songstress, but I am definitely no Adele or Freddie Mercury, or even Britney Spears once you auto tune her good and plenty. So that doesn't explain how I was able to sing rolling in the deep "better than Adele herself." No, not at all making of the sense.

I remember it pretty well, the moment when I realized I was singing alone and my friends were gawking.

"What?"

"How long did you just hold that fermata Baby?" It was Anne, count on her to be watching my bar holding abilities.

"I dunno, two bars mabes. Why?" Then I realized what I'd just said and turned around. The whole cafeteria, it seemed, was staring. As soon as I turned, they looked away and started chatting again. It was bizarre.

"Two? Try more like eight." That was Rin, of course. Considering she was playing the Uke, she would know how many bars had passed.

Even Kelsey looked up from doodling long enough to nod and go back to her work.

"Umm... I can't hold three bars without a breath, let alone eight. I think you must have made a mistake." I shrugged.

"Whatever. You still held that note for a long time."

Now that I think about it, that night wasn't the first time I dreamed the dream. I had thought it was, but now I'm pretty sure that the nigh before I held the fermata I had dreamed it as well. Oh, right; the dream... it would probably help to explain.

* * *

After a long day and a few hours of homework, I finally managed to collapse that night. The first time I vividly remembered dreaming the dream was the night after the singing incident.

You see, my dreams are usually predictably random. I always have at least three layers of dream and they usually have to do with stupid stuff like TV shows or movies and books. Often they involve traveling, and this night was no different.

I was at the C_amp Lazlo_ camp with members of Disney Channel's _camp rock_ as well as (for some reason) Sheldon from the Big bang theory. We were working together on a solution that would help the head counselor's mustache grow so he would stop feeding kids to the lions behind the mess hall. While we tried to work on that, _Demi Lovato_ made fun of Sheldon and I got really upset and started crying. I threw the beaker of solution at her and it accidentally burnt her skin. I was then on the run from the camp lions (which although supposed to be lions, looked much more like mastiffs and for some reason at this point in the dream I was the girl from the original Escape to Witch Mountain) because the head counselor turned out to be Demi's father. At this point you may be wondering, "what does this have to do with anything?" For starters, this isn't the dream that is important.

No, that dream came later. But not by much. When I was being chased by the lions, I started to lose the grip on the dream and not hear things as clearly which is usually a sign I'm waking up. So when I "woke up" to find myself in a completely different dream scape, I was pretty surprised.

"The Dream" always took place in a beautiful park at nighttime. It was close to a stream and the flowers were in bloom. Sweet scented roses glowed silver in the moonlight and one of those archways with the honeysuckle twined up it and hanging heavy from the top was in front of me. It was a lovely place, but strangely vivid.

Like any good little girl, I decided to explore my surroundings. Through the archway I went and out into the rows of rosebushes that lined the park path. It was an oddly quiet, lonely place. The only life I could pick out were the flowers and the fireflies. Until I realized that my shadow on the path had a friend.

I stopped and turned around; there was a man behind me I had never seen before. He looked at me for less than a split second before turning away. He didn't say anything.

"Who are you?" My voice surprised me since it was my normal one not a dream made version. So I repeated. "Who are you?" No reply.

I kept walking. Every time I stopped, he stopped too. I tried to catch him off guard, but I was shy and let him be. At least... that night I did.

When I went to bed the next night, my normal dream was much shorter and "the dream" (I started calling it the Rose Garden Dream. I know: original, right?) lasted longer. This time, I worked up the courage to talk to the guy more and tried to get a better look at him. Since recurring dreams are a rare thing for me, I was happy to finally have one. It was like getting a second chance to lengthen the story.  
After a while, though, I just sat down by the creek and watched the water flow past. This time, there were birds in the garden.

When I had the dream for a third time, I started to get a bit weirded out. Nonetheless, I kept talking to my "friend" and tried to get closer to try and see his face. On the fourth night the dream took up nearly half of my sleep (or so I estimated) and my normal dreams lasted for not much time at all. That night, I started getting fed up with Blondie (my name for the mute guy) and his constant following of me wherever I went. I started circling him and trying to get closer, but he was a bit to smart for me.

The next day I came up with a master plan. I didn't know if it would work, but I hoped it would. Almost the entire time I shelved at the library I was thinking about Blondie. I guess I must have been distracted because for some reason when I got home, I realized I had checked out five different books on the history of Great Britain. Plus I had a craving for peppermint tea. I don't know why.

The fifth night of the dream commenced my master plan. In the dream, every time it came, I would jog. I jogged throught the park, which was much bigger than I thought it would be, without stopping. Well...without randomly stopping. I'm not a good runner, so I slowed to a walk more than I'd like to admit. For some reason, the dream always felt pretty real. And everytime I went there it seemed something was added. Like the unmanned lemonade stand by the Honeysuckle arch... or the little blue bird that landed on my head when I stopped to rest.

After three weeks of randomly jogging in my little dream world, it was time to test my theory. Like always, after an incredibly short random dream about extremely tasty apples (yes... it was an odd dream) I "awoke" in the park. My little bluebird friend chirped and fluttered down to nibble on my hair as I made my way to the bench to stretch. The whole time I'd been jogging, I had discreetly kept tabs on Blondie to make sure he was close behind. I always gave him plenty of warning when I was about to come to a stop, but not today. One of the additions to the dream-scape was a small, Japanese style bridge over the creek (which was about two feet deep and five feet across) and it would serve as my trap in this experiment.

I took off jogging, following my usual route while taking some shortcuts and random paths. Although it hadn't helped at all in real life, my dream jogging stamina had increase a bit to the point where I could go nonstop for say... ten minutes. At the pace of a limp horse. Yeah... maybe not that bad, but you get my point. I'm no athlete. I gave that up for my writing ability and comedic timing.

So we came up close to the creek on the path and, like usual, I sped up a bit to leap from the bridge to the path on the other side. Only this time, I didn't leap. I spun around and stopped; in the dead middle of the bridge.

Blondie didn't get the memo and crashed into me, which was what I had wanted. His eyes were green and he was young, just a bit older than me. Maybe in his twenties. And the collision with him felt like I was being hit by a bus.

"Yahh!" I don't know which of us screamed, but it didn't matter because we both plummeted (if you can call it plummeting when it's like, three feet) off the bridge and into the water.

"Ack!" I sat up in the creek, spitting water and shaking hair out of my eyes. "Oh hey, there are fish in here..."

"What the bloody hell are you trying to pull!" Blondie was angrily blinking water out of his eyes and rubbing his head where we'd collided. Mine was throbbing a bit too, but I wasn't about to let that distract me. He'd finally spoken.

"I should be asking _you _that. You come into my dreams and continually show up only to stalk me silently through some human deprived flower garden. The least you could do would be offer an explanation as to why I keep having this same dream! Isn't that what people who live in a dream-scape are supposed to do?"

"What, explain your own mind to you? It's me who's stuck here you twat!"

British accent... my subconscious knows me too well. Eeeee...

"Oh so you ARE stuck here. Then why not tell me? It wouldn't kill you to have some company would it? But when I say company," I cut in as he opened his mouth to argue, "I mean company that involves actually talking to the person and not just following her like some Blond British shadow. Who are you anyway? My name's Barbara Jean Lipincott and now you have to answer because it is common courtesy to tell your name to someone who's already introduced themselves... so ha!" I breathed heavily and looked at him for a reaction.

Blondie blinked, then smiled sadly. "You're right, I do. But can we at least get out of the water first? It isn't cold here, but we're still sopping wet."

"Oh. Sorry, sure yeah, okay..." Shy mode had suddenly kicked in and I blushed (if people can blush in dreams...) and he helped me out of the creek and into the grass.

* * *

If I didn't still (secretly and deep down) believe (or hope earnestly that it was possible) in magic, I would have found the entire story Bull. But I was actually excited to find out that my wildest and bizarrest dreams were sort of trueish. Okay, so I never thought that the spirits of nations actually took human forms... I mean, aside from Scandinavia and the World I had never really given the possibility much thought. Of course, SATW characters weren't exactly the type of people you wanted to secretly be living inside your head. Aside from that, his story made absolutely no sense to me at the time, but I decided to believe it anyway.

Blondie's name turned out to be Arthur Kirkland, the representative (he had to go back and explain that he meant "personification" later because I was very confused by how someone from the house of representatives could be inside my head, or British. Yes, I am American. I am also kinda slows sometimes) of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.

"So, you, in a way, are the country of..."

"The United Kingdom of-"

"England."

"*sigh* Yeah, pretty much."

After he apologized for ignoring and confusing me, as well as not talking to me when I was awake (which I now wish he wouldn't do, I now have to deal with the guy 24/7) he tried to explain how he had gotten us into this situation in the first place; something happened to his body and his spirit was now (for some unknown reason) attached to mine.

"You see, the nations can only die three ways; another nation can kill us, our people can develop a "national sense" and become powerful enough to kill us as a mob, or our people and land can be so devastated and ruined by forces of nature (like famines or natural disasters) that our bodies are destroyed from the inside and we die that way. But if something simply happens to our body with no national significance; our spirit and actual country is unharmed, but we are separated from out bodies until they can heal enough to support us."

"Hmmm... weirdly, that makes sense. Hey Artie?"

"Arthur, dear. I hate nicknames. What?"

"Are you a good singer?"

* * *

So now it's been about five months since I finally managed to talk to him and Arthur has avoided the subject of "special condition" that I know nothing more than what he told me the first night. In other words; what happened to his body, why he is "attached" to me and why he hasn't gone back yet are all a mystery to me. All I know is that for the time being (and it doesn't look like he's going anywhere soon) I have a young British man in my head nagging me to correct my spoken grammar and to work on pronunciation. Yay. I swear, if that guy's accent weren't so hot...

But now this new information has slipped. He probably didn't mean for me to hear it, or to say it at all, but the fact that he referred to Alfred as "dead **too**" is not very promising. I thought Engl-Arthur had said nations couldn't die?

And not to mention that spinning feeling. Arthur had taken over my body once before, but it was while I slept so I guess I didn't feel it as much. Still though, it was as though he unconsciously did it... and I have been feeling weird lately. So maybe he's taken control of me (yek, that sounds really bad) more times than that? No... he seemed as confused as I was... It didn't make sense. And if he **had **taken over my body while I slept, I should have had no dreams like I did the time with the mackerel...

"So... what's your name?" I asked the boy across the table from me as I tried to ignore the two voices having a nice little "chat" in my head.

"Sean."

"Ahhh... I'm Barbara, but everyone just calls me Baby." I try to smile,, but it comes out feeling more like a grimace.

"Oh."

Awkward silence then...

"Everyone calls me "tiny." Or at least they used to before-"

"Before you started hitting on older women?" I couldn't resist, his face got red and he glared at me, but I still found it amusing.

"How old do you think I am?"

"Mmmm..." I sipped and pretended to think "Thirteen maybe? Fourteen? Twelve?"

"Huh. Wow, that's actually not what I thought you were going to say..."

"I don't judge on stature. If you want me to say five or six, I couldn't because it would be a lie and make me feel guilty. Plus, I didn't realize you were vertically challenged until like ten minutes ago."  
I could tell he didn't believe me, and we kind of sat in silence for awhile, listening to Arthur and Alfred. Until it was necessary to cut in.

_But dude, come on! I mean, I've already been to my place-_

_Yes, **your **place is only a bus ride away from here. I am NOT kidnapping a child to fly across the Atlantic ocean!**  
**_

_**Technically, I'd be kidnapping myself...**  
_

_**Girl has a point, dog.  
**_

_You two stay out of this-_

_Arthur, we've got to at least go to Mattie's place and try to find him-  
_

_**I don't have a passport.**  
_

_See? She doesn't have a passport, so we couldn't get to Canada anyway!  
_

_**We COULD swim across lake Ontario...**  
_

_Yeah we could!  
_

_Don't encourage him Baby!  
_

_**Still, what are you two talking about anyway?**  
_

_I well... in truth I need to go to my house and pick up some things and we should try to contact the other members of the G8 at least but-  
_

_But Iggy's too chicken to face Francis in a girl's body!  
_

_GIT! That isn't it at all!  
_

_Then what is it, pops?  
_

_It's... I don't want to...  
_

We didn't get the chance to find out what it was that he didn't want to do because at that moment, a man walked into the tea shop and the mental conversation ground to a halt.  
He had a long ponytail and sunglasses, but I couldn't see his face very well. He seemed normal though, so I couldn't understand the touch of fear in England- Arthur's voice when he next spoke.

_Barbara, lets get out of here now._

_**Huh, why?**  
_

_Arthur..._

_I know, Al.  
_

_But-  
_

_Barbara, get out of here now.  
_

I stood to leave and thanked the lady at the counter. Sean stood as well, and I got to the door. I couldn't understand why those two were so freaked out. It was just a normal guy.  
I started to push open the door when I heard Al's last comment before we exited the shop.

_Arthur, that's **him**._


	3. Chapter 3 Dory

**Disclaimer: I am not promoting the use of drugs or alcohol in this chapter. I am also very much aware that Beer can be harmful, but I needed to keep a certain friend of mine in character, and he isn't the brightest. Viewer discretion is advised.**

**Note: I don't own Hetalia. Neither do I ship USXUK, but feel free to interpret their relationship in this story however you like if you are a yaoi fan. If you are not; things are as they appear.  
**

**Like always, enjoy and please review! There will be a longer break before I release the next one.  
**

* * *

I'm a Dane, from Denmark. So when some German guy starts talking to me through my ind, what do I do? Tune him out and get back to slacking of. Ever since I started smoking joints, I haven't really cared much for school. Not that I cared much for it in the first place, 'specially not maths. I'm going to be a painter when I'm a real adult so why the hell do I have to know about the square root of pi? Mmmm... pie. My girlfriend makes the best apple pies in the world, and she definitely isn't from the USA.

As I think about Kelly and her skills as a baker, my head slumps even more and the earphone hidden by my long hair starts to get uncomfortable, so I shift. I can't help hearing some of the shit my conscience or whatever he is is spewin', and it's some bizarre stuff.

_So the awesome me got distracted and he managed to get me by chance and now I'm here! You'd better be grateful because the awesome me doesn't choose to share a brain with just anybody!_

An' then he laughed. I gotta say, I've heard some pretty annoying laughs in my time; like my old man's hyuk hyuk hyuk, or my cousin Nicolette's inhumanly high pitched tee hee hee! (God, is she the most annoying chick in the world) But this guy takes the cake. Not only do I not have a clue what he's talking about, but his laugh is like... gah. Keh sez sez sez sez, I mean how's that even a laugh to begin wit?

_Scuse me, but why are you here again?_

_What! Weren't you listening to the awesome me?  
_

_Not particularly. I guess I'll have to ask you to repeat?  
_

_No way, if you aren't awesome enough to listen to the awesome me's awesome speech about my UN-awesome predicament the first time I take the time to tell you, then you aren't awesome enough for me to repeat it!  
_

_Uh huh. Guess I'll have to try harder to think in danish then. **I can't have some German dude stealing all my priceless secrets, can I?**  
_

_What was the last part?  
_

_**Nothing you need to worry about.**  
_

_What?  
_

I guess that theory had quite a few holes now that I looks back on it. Considerin' my girlfriend is German and doesn't speak good Danish, it's almost impossible to concentrate on speaking to her in German while thinking in Danish. Later I would learn that this guy, Gilbert (as he continued to tell me) could hear and see everything I heard and saw so that plan was pretty much dogshit.

"Hey Dory!" I picked up the phone and laid my drawing pad down. I'd been expecting her call, she almost always calls at five.

"Kelly, how've ya been?"

_Dude! Your name is **DORY?** Kesesesese! That's such a girl's name!_

_**My full name's Dorren, so shut up.**  
_

"I'm fine, things are dull around here. My piano teacher broke her leg so I haven't had lessons lately,"

_Oooh, so your girl plays piano? _

_**I said shut up.**  
_"Nothing around here either, just hanging out with the boys-"

_Are they CUTE boys, little Dory? Kesesesese! _

"Oh... are you still with the same crew?"

"You ask that every week." _Yeah, I'm still smoking, Kelly. Quit worrying, nothing's gonna happen._

_Smoking what?  
_

_**Damn it, shut up. It's none of your business.**  
_

"I'm just worried about you. they're always coming up with new information about the effects of marijuana and stuff-"

_What! You're on POT? How old are you? _

"I said shut up!"

"..."

"Oh God, not you Kell! It's Miranda, she's being a pain-"

_Uh huh. Blame it on the little sister. No need to point to the fact that your insecurities are driving you to experiment with illegal drugs to ease your pain!_

"Oh, okay."

_**Oh, so now you're trying to be my conscience? Just leave me alone, dammit.**  
_

_I've got a friend who's always feeling invisible. Everyone ignores him so he feels the need to be a stoner. It's really sad. You should try talking about it with the awesome me, not many people get that golden opportunity. Kesese!  
_

"It's none of your business!"

"Dor-?"

"Leave me alone, just leave me alone!"

Then the line went dead. I called her back and apologized.

"Sorry Kelly."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not. I'm just... not feeling great. I'll call you soon, I just wanted to make sure you weren't too freaked."

As soon as we said goodnight, I started yelling at Gilbert in my head.

_**Why the hell are you here and why can't you just leave me be!** _

_You didn't seem phased when I first talked to you... I thought we were friends...  
_

_**No, no we are not friends. You are freeloading German brain hog and I can't even get rid of you in my sleep!**  
_

_It's not my fault.  
_

It was funny (weird funny) because the tone was sad. I hadn't heard him like that. It was odd.

He was quiet for two days. I thought he might have left... I was wrong.

_Pot's bad for you._

**_Damn. Stay out of my business Gilbert._**

_My name's actually the Awesome Prussia, but that works too.  
_

_**Yeah well, whoever the hell you are, leave me alone.**  
_

_Nope! We're sharing this body so I have a say in what you do to it!  
_

_**Up yours; this is MY body, you're just some freeloading spirit thing.**  
_

_Have you ever considered drinking? Beer tastes good and it isn't bad for you at all.  
_

_**Hah. You obviously haven't read any newspapers, millions of deaths are caused by alcohol related accidents every year. My country already has a problem; I don't think I need to add to it.**  
_

I raised the joint to my lighter.

_Millions of deaths are caused by drug overdoses too. Plus, you've only just started, so you can still quit and have a chance at being awesome._

_**Yeah, thanks for the pointers, pal. Now shut up.**  
_

I took a drag and had about two seconds to enjoy my high before he burst into song. Of key. In the tune of frere jaques(or what ever it is...)

It. Is. IMPOSSIBLE. To. Tune. Out someone. If they. Are singing. IN YOUR FREAKING HEAD!

_Pot is bad, pot is bad. Don't' do pot, you'll be sad. You'll be sad, cause pot ain't rad. Just drink beer like the awesome meeeeeee! Again! Pot is bad, pot is bad. Don't do pot, you'll be sad!- _Over. And Over. AND OVER. My high (and a bit of my soul) died that day.

Anyway, after that, I could never even** look** at weed again. Every time I did; that STUPID F... SONG POPPED INTO MY HEAD! And it never really went away. Ever.

* * *

I didn't like what I had to do, but I did it anyway.

The duffel bag was in the corner of the closet. I dug it out and started shoving clothes and other necessary items into it. A flashlight, Puddles, the baby blanket, cellphone, toiletries, all went into the green duffel. Also the iPod and a couple packs of gum. And tea.

I quickly wrote out the note in the correct handwriting and stuck it on the counter for the parents to find. The Lipincotts would probably never forgive me for this... but if I didn't do it... all our lives were on the line. We'd talked it over and this was the best way to kill three birds with one stone. Of course... I still didn't think I'd ever hear the end of it. She was not going to be happy when she woke up...

I quickly changed with my eyes squeezed shut, thanking God for undergarments. After shoving the PJs into the bag along with everything else, I looked around one last time and sighed. Six months... this place had begun to feel like home. But now, it wasn't safe to stay here. The whole family could be in danger.

"Took you long enough." He was outside in a taxi, like we'd arranged.

"Sorry, Sean, girls take a while to get ready."

_Perv._

_Shut up you wanker!  
_

"So, you two goin' to the airpert taghether?"

"Yes, we are GOING to the AIRPORT, TOGETHER."

"Sorry pal, my girlfriend's a grammar nazi."

"I am not!"

_My girlfriend or a grammar nazi? _

_Both!  
_

"Oh Sean, you are SUCH a silly Goose!" I punched him "playfully" on the stressed words, all while mentally vomiting.

"Wow man, she's a keeper."

"SHE certainly is." He laughed, but it was more nervous than usual. I could tell he was just as stressed as I felt.

Why the bloody hell had we run into _him? _If Alfred recognized him, then that meant the killer must be the same person. And I highly doubted that our run in at the tea place had been an accident. But if I was right, how did he know? Could he tell that it was us? But how. So many questions...

My eyes started to droop as we neared the airport. I couldn't fall asleep now, that would be bad. But her body was tired and even though _she _might be sleeping, it hadn't physically rested at all tonight. I could tell "Sean" was getting tired too.

We pulled in and were immediately swept up in the crowd. Sean being a dwarf/little person (which to me just makes it sound even more ridiculous, but this IS the 21st century so one must be politically correct) and Barbara not being the tallest sixteen year old in the world, it was easy to get lost in the midnight rush. Baggy eyes and drooping shoulders glared at us and mumbled obscenities as we fought against the grain to get to where we needed to be.

"So you called ahead?"

"Yeah, he should be here by now... this should be embarrassing."

"Good. You need a little humility."

We entered the private hanger and looked around for our man. He was standing against the plane, staring into the night from the hanger. He jumped and turned when he realized we were there.

"Hi Will..."

"Oh Alfie! This is a surprise! You're so short!"

"Just shut up and open the hatch."

"Roger that, oh? _Alfie_, who's this young lady with you?"  
"Umm..."

"If you dare flirt with me, William P Jones, I swear I will twist your bloody neck-"

"Ooookay. Well... This is super awks... umm... Arthur wh-?"

"Just save it."

* * *

_So._

_So.  
_

_How did you-?  
_

_I don't want to talk about it.  
_

_Okay.  
_

We'd been in the air for a while, probably an hour. I figured that I might as well get information from Alfred while I could; I couldn't stand to talk to him in front of Baby... She had enough problems without having to worry about... things...

_So then why don't you go to sleep?_

_How long do you think we have, Alfred?  
_

_What?  
_

_How long before they fade?  
_

_Oh.  
_

_I know you were trying to say it the other day, have you told him anything?  
_

_...  
_

_Well?  
_

_No. I can't. I at least told him I died, though. It sounds like you haven't even admitted THAT.  
_

_We didn't die...  
_

_You can try to deny it, but it's true.  
_He was bitter, like how he'd been after the day the world trade center had been attacked. For a long while he wouldn't smile, would barely look at us. He only stared out the window, gazing worriedly at the sky. It was a different window now, this time in his mind. But it was the same fear, the same watchfulness for another attack. But now, it was fear for a specific person. We both knew that our souls/spirits were infectious. I had noticed it immediately with Barbara, it was probably the same with Sean. Without any trying on our part, they had begun to take on aspects of our selves. The singing... she'd guessed what had happened, but she still didn't know the full extent.

We were silent for a long time. Finally, I just closed my eyes, and waited for the storm.

* * *

The sun touched my face and I squinted in annoyance.

**_I don't want to wake up. Tired!_**

_Good morning love, did you sleep well?  
_His voice was cheerful in my head. Too cheerful.

I stretched out my legs and frowned. I couldn't stretch out, something was in my way. And my cheek was oddly warm...

I opened my eyes and found myself leaning against the window... of a plane. I was on a plane.  
Oh my freaking God.

"ARTHUR I AM GOING TO MURDER YOU!"

_And here we go..._


	4. Chapter 4 Jae Joon

**Chapter Four: I did say there would be a little wait on this one, it took me two days and I'm pretty proud of it. **

**Thanks to **_frostythebooklover_** for his/her continued support by being my only reviewer (and an awesome one at that) As you probably know, reviews are the bread and butter for most fan fic writers. I love getting compliments and critiques, and if I got a flame it would give me more inspiration for the villian underlings.**

**I love all my readers as well. Please share this story with those you think would have fun reading it and, as always, enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: Some Mature References. Not many, but I figured I'd warn.**

* * *

In Korea we have standards. To achieve in life one must work hard, practice hard, study hard and bring honor to one's family. I have been able to do just this for many years.

My grades are at the top of my class. It is not easy to be fluent in seven languages, a master cellist and work eight hours a day, but I do it. Why? Because I have ethics and goals for my life. You cannot reach your maximum potential in my country by sitting around and listening to K-Pop or playing video games. Or, in a specific case; whining, crying and talking incessantly about pasta.

I have been able to keep to my father's expectations and standards for years. It was not always easy, after my mother died in childbirth and my little sister was put up for adoption because my father couldn't bear the resemblance, I went through a period of difficulty. But now, I work harder than ever to gain the future that awaits me. And I manage extremely well. My father is constantly telling his coworkers and colleagues how proud he is to have such a diligent and focused son. At least, he used to be able to do that. But if things continue as they are… he will not hold me with the same pride for long.

I want to go back to the way things were. I want to be able to erase the last four months and go back to being a flawless honors student. I want to be able to gain back the sleep I've lost from irritation and studying into the morning. I want to be able to go back to working only eight hors a day and not the ten I have been forced to do in order to pay the medium to solve this problem. I want to be able to stop taking all of these strange potions and do chants and wear ancient talismans that I hide under my garments so that my peers, teachers and especially my father don't see what I've become. But I can't. Not with **him** here.

_Hey Jay jay! Jay Jay! Why can't we do something fun?_

"It is three in the morning and I am working. Leave me in peace." I mumble over my complicated maths. If I had better focus, I could solve these problems in seconds.

_But you're allllwayyyys working Jay jay!_

"That is not my name, do not call me that." My eyes are drooping so I take another swig of my energy drink and get back to the calculus problem I must solve. My father insisted on my taking this course although I despise maths. I would never displease my father.

_If you don't like something then why do you do it Jay jay?_

"Stop reading my personal thoughts!" I hiss and move on to the next problem. Twenty by tomorrow and I have only managed five so far!

_Maybe if you take a break it would help. I know! Let's make pasta!_

"No. I am working."

_Awwwwww… You work too hard. I could never do what you do…_

"Yes, and that is the difference between me and you, Vargas-ssi."

_Yeah! _He obviously did not get the connotation of my comment. In truth it was quite rude, but I was too tired and stressed out to care. He couldn't read the mood and there were no rules of society saying you had to be considerate to the voices in your head. Especially if they were obnoxious Italian ghosts.

_Me and you are really similar! You like making noodles, I like making pasta-_

"It is my job. My father owns a restaurant." I try to concentrate, but Feliciano keeps talking.

_I like singing, you like singing!_

"I do not!"

_Ve! Sorry! It's true though… uh… we both like to draw, like what you're doing right now!_

I looked down and realized that I was doodling on my workspace and erased it immediately.

_We both like music, even though you haven't really played much recently._

I winced at the mention of my deceit. I had taken to playing cello music on my radio recently to deceive my father into thinking I was practicing when I was really trying to study since I didn't have time to practice with all the distraction. My cello sat forlornly in the corner of the room gathering dust.

_And we both have big brothers!_

The pencil in my hand snapped. I hadn't realized I'd been gripping it, but apparently I had. Feliciano didn't notice.

_Maybe that's why you work so hard, you're trying to avoid thinking about him and how you don't want to end up like he did-_

That was the last rice grain to tip the pile_. _All the tension from my guilt and the sleepless nights burst out in angry Italian.

"Shut up shut up!"

_Ve, I'm sorry!_

"You are nothing like me! How dare you bring up something like that? You don't belong here! Why the hell do you have to act like you know me! You know nothing about me! This is MY life and I don't need advice from a sloppy, slacking, lazy Italian! This is MY country; go haunt someone in your own YOU DAMN GHOST!"

"Jae-Joon?" My father came into the room, looking tired like always from running the store all day, "What is this commotion about?"

_What did he say?_

_**Leave me alone.**  
_

_Really? That's mean..._

"Father, I apologize." I answer in Korean, "I was simply practicing my Italian, it is a very loud language," I bowed my head in apology.

"Humpf," He grunted, "You should work on your English instead. It's still very weak compared to how it should be."

"Yes father. Goodnight."

"You too," He closed the door softly and left.

I worked in silence for the rest of the night. Feliciano left me alone until five in the morning when I finally finished. I yawned and went over to my bed to catch a few hours of sleep until it was time for school. The last thing I heard him say was so soft compared to usual that I barely caught it; _I'm not a ghost…am I?_

After school the next day, I rode my bike to the spirit medium's for our weekly consultation. She's a sketchy western lady from the south of France who tries to be as Korean as possible with no success. Especially since she has at least twenty Buddhas (Buddhism is Chinese) in her shop and Japanese garden paintings on the walls. Her hut is in the poorer section of our city and from the outside is falling apart. It's falling apart in the inside as well, but in a more messy and unorganized way than the literal sense. It's needless to say that if I had any other choices, I would never have put a toe over the line of her doorway. But I had no other choices. It's true that if I were Japanese, I probably would have committed suicide by now, but I am a Korean with a family to support (even if it is just my father) and a future to earn. And if I had gone to the clinic for help, they would have locked me away in an asylum and my father would have had no one left.

_oh, are we going to that creepy lady's again? She freaks me out._

"We don't have a choice. She's the only one I could afford."

Feliciano isn't against the idea of hiring a medium. From what he's told me about being the "spirit of Italy" or something, he didn't come to be attached to my body because he wanted to. But he doesn't like this woman, and to tell the truth, neither do I.

After another session of giving me more prayer scrolls and potions, she demanded her pay and went to the back of the shop to get something, telling me to "wait there."Throughout this session, she'd been acting strangely, stroking my hand and slumping over every once in a while.

_Jay jay..._

**_What?_**

He was right to be nervous. When she came back she was wearing a sheer nightgown and had a glass of something I guessed was very strong in her hand.

"There's an extra fee for today sweetheart," She said in French.

The earth stood still and I was unable to do anything. I was just frozen, mentally and physically. In short, I was freaking out. Then; a miracle that ripped me from my stupor.

"Ack! No no no! Retreat!" I suddenly heard my voice say.

The world was spinning and I noticed that my eyes had lightened in shade from a dark to light brown. I felt sick and dizzy. Even more so when my body ran out of the shop at breakneck speed and pedaled away on my bike faster than I ever had in my life. When the bike stopped, I felt as though I had hit a brick wall, but at least I had regained feeling in my legs.

"What the... Feliciano-ssi did you do that?"

_Y-yeah... I didn't mean to! I'm really sorry I guess I've just been attached to you so long I kinda took over without thinking..._

"Don't apologise." I found myself smiling in relief, "Sure it was weird, but I would have been frozen. Thank you, you are very fast,"

_Uh, okay. Can we sit on the bench? I'm still freaked out..._

"Sure," I don't know why, maybe I was tired and freaked out myself, but I didn't mind Feliciano as much as usual. Actually, I felt good knowing that he'd been just as scared as I was. When we'd been running I'd heard him thinking something along the lines of _I'm a virgin! I'm not ready for this! _which actually made me respect him more. I thought that, being Italian, he'd be more... used to stuff like this.

_Hey, Jae-Joon? Is it okay if I ask you a question?_

"I guess so; you will anyway."

_Do you miss your brother?_

That was a blow. I sat completely still, frozen, for a minute before answering.

"Where did that come from?"

_Well, I mean... he is your brother- don't be angry! I just think that maybe, you really are avoiding him too much._

"He dissapointed my father and brought shame to us. There is nothing left to think about is all." That was a lie and it sent a stab of sadness into my heart. I did miss Kyong. But that didn't help anything to dwell on it. He would not come back because I wanted him to.

_Maybe not, _He read my thoughts again, _But maybe you should go talk to him._

"Why do you care? It doesn't ahve anything to do with you."

_More than you think... family is very important to me and people in my country. Plus, like I said, I have a big brother too. I regret not telling Roma how much he means to me... even when he gave me the chance... and now I might never see him again._

"..."

I thought for a long time on that bench, missing my shift at work for the first time in five years. And then, on a whim, I got on my bike and pedaled to the east district.

You see, after my mother died five years ago my brother, Kyong, started skipping class. He slacked off and fought with my father more and more. Then, three years ago, he told my father that he hated having to study to become a doctor when he didn't want to be one. My father blew a fuse and screamed at him, telling Kyong that if he didn't shape up and get back to his studies, he would cut off his school funding and my brother's chance at a future. So my brother left for three days. My father cut his funding, just as he had threatened. When Kyong came back, it was only to collect his belongings and the money he had stowed away so that he could rent an apartment on the other side of the city with some friends. They were going to be K-Pop stars, he told me. He gave me the address if I ever wanted to visit, but I'd just looked away.

Now I was headed toward his apartment to try to pick up the pieces.

* * *

**Bab****y; Somewhere Over the Atlantic Ocean 7 AM**

It's been a loooong six hours. After waking to find myself in a private jet headed to London as the only female soul in the cabin, things kept sliding downhill. Sean's personal screamfest with himself and my own freakout session were only the beginning.

When I'd calmed down into a sort of numb acceptance of the fact that I was flying to Europe for the first time in my life, running away from home, and accompanied with a possessed dwarf and some guy who kept trying to break the tension (plus my old pal Iggy who was NOT off the hook), Sean accidentally opened my bag instead of his.

"What the? Dude is this yours?" He was holding up my stuffed doggy Mrs. Puddles who was conveniently wrapped in the baby blanket that I still slept with. There were no mirrors but I still felt my face flush deeply as I snatched them out of my companion's hands.

"Y-yes! You got a problem with that?"

He looked at my serious, bright red face, and cracked up. As did Alfred.

_You still sleep with a blankie? Hah! Arthur I can see why you two get along so well! Hahahahahahahahha!_

Sean was laughing his ass off in a most attractive manner that made me want to hit him with a shovel.

**_Arthur! Why did you have to do this to me you idiot!_**

_Well, I just figured you would miss them and-_

_**Aww, how sweet. Thanks for the thought honey, but I could really go without the added stress of being embarrassed considering that I was just kidnapped.**  
_

_I'm sorry love, I really am it's just that you-_

_Nahahahahahaha!_

_ALFRED shut up! You two Sean! May I remind you, my dear friend, that you yourself still sleep with a stuffed rabbit I gave you when you were a child so that you wouldn't be scared and wet the bed in the middle of the night?_

_... That's a low blow, man._

_Exactly._

We sat in silence for a wile before the pilot came over and sat down.

"Uh, shouldn't you be-?"

"It's all right, she's in autopilot. So you two must be Sean and... Baby? Right? Interesting name."

_Yeah, Arthur, why do you call her Baby anyway? Is it some creepy old guy thing?_

_I"m not old! And no it's just a nickname._

_"_Okay, I'll assume you guys are doing some weird telepathy thing by how silent you are, and I'll stay out of it. Anyway, the name's Will Jones. How do you do?"

He shook our hands and asked about my name.

"Yeah, it's a nickname. Funny story actually..."

When I was younger, I wasn't one who had lots of nicknames. People called me Barbara, and that was it. But two years ago, as a freshman, people started calling me Barbie. Well, one person anyway. This person was one of those smart alecks who thinks they're hot stuff and probably are to some people, so he wrote "Barbie Prom?" in gigantic letters, as a joke, on the gym wall. Only he forgot the "R" so instead it read "Babie." Now the nickname's stuck and the joke turned around to be on him.

"So your name's Barbara? Huh. My grandma's name is-"

"Save it. I get that so much it isn't even funny," I turned to the window and closed my eyes. I was so tired. Then I thought of something and re opened my bag. My ipod, bras, phone, and... wait go back.

**_Arthur. You packed underwear...items?_**

_Well... yeah._

_**... so you went through my underwear drawer?**  
_

_Dude, really? That is so gross!_

_Sh-shut up Alfred! I closed my eyes!_

_Pervert pervert! Arthur's a pervert! Nahahahaha!_

_Shut your trap wanker!..._

I smiled as I closed my eyes again. It was cruel, but in my mind, it was simply payback for my earlier humiliation. My ipod was still tuned to the radio from the last time I had used it. So when "Good Life" came on, I had to laugh.

Woke up in London Yesterday...

Almost true. But I wouldn't get to London for six more hours. During that time I was soothed into a half-sleep by the arguing voices in my head.

* * *

**Baby; Around 2 pm. Somewhere Outside London. In The Air. On a Plane... grrrrr...**

"Hey, you guys..." Will woke me out of my stupor with his call from the pilot's seat, "Question for Al and Artie; the kids DO have passports, right?"

I looked out the window and realized I could see land right below us and city on the horizon.

"Shit!" I face-palmed, "Iggy, you wouldn't have happened to have made me a fake passport, would you?"

_... No..._

_Okay. And you call **me** the stupid one?_

_Well it isn't like I had any time, we had to get out of there._

_**I have a passport, not that anyone cares. You packed it, right Alfred?**  
_

_Yessss... oh yeah I did! Awesome!_

"Okay. Once again, I have no idea what you two-four are talking about. So one of you kids care to fill me in?"

"We don't have passports."

"I do!"

"Oh. You're so lucky!"

"It's to visit my family in costa Rica."

"... Oookay. Thought you were Asian-"

"Yeah, fillipino."

"Ah! So you're a halfer AND a dwarf!"

"Hey!"

"Okay, so let me get this straight, Arthur; you're inside the body of a teenage girl, you kidnap said teenage girl, take her on a plane across the Atlantic and she doesn't even have a passport? Figured as much."

_Okay why is it that no one has pointed out that Alfred also kidnapped a child-_

_Yeah but he's a boy! I'm not a pervert like Artie the pirate-_

_Stop RIGHT THERE MISTER!_

_**Guys, cool it. We're landing.**  
_

_What?_

Yes, we were landing. Not on an airstrip, however. No, a random field in which sheep scattered left and right in panicked chaos.

"I told you I couldn't hear what you were saying. I got bored. Now we are landing so you won't have to go through customs. Hooray."

_Dude! Penny you're a boss!_

_Well, it does solve some problems. Thanks Will..._

_"_Al Called you a boss."

"Artie thanked you."

"Thanks kids. I'm glad you guys at least remembered I'm no telepath."

We got out quickly lest the locals realize there was a jet resting in their field. Being a girl, I was slower at packing up than Sean and followed him out. But not before Will put a hand on my shoulder.

"Hey, Barbara; when you see your Nanna Patterson, say thanks for me and my Jersey friend. She really appreciates all you guys have been doing for the homeless in Trenton."

"uh... okay (not gonna ask how you know that) ... thanks Mr. Jones."

"Please, call me Penny."

"Okay. What's it short for?"

He grinned and put his headphones back on before answering, "Pennsylvania!"

Then the doors shut and I was left in the sheep field with my new companion and no money. Hooray indeed.


	5. Chapter 5 Elizabeth

**Ah! And a Huge thank you to Vanillamochi and Frostythebooklover, my two reviewers! Loveth you guys!**

**Frosty was awarded (for being my first reviewer) the chance to make and OC. Elizabeth is her/his creation, with only a few tweaks.**

**Thank you to all my watchers, favers, reviewers and most importantly; Readers! As always, enjoy!**

* * *

"Miss Stevenson, do you know the answer?"

"Suh-72."

"Yes, that is correct. Now can anyone tell me the process Elizabeth used to get to her conclusion? Yes Mr. Donovan.."

I know the answers to all the questions on the sheet, I've already done them. The homework is what I'm working on now, quietly in the back of the classroom. The other "back of the classroomers" are chatting and drawing crude pictures on each other's binders. I don't talk to them. I don't really talk to anyone, actually. It's just a habit I've gotten into since I was four. I CAN'T really talk to them, anyway. What could we possible talk ABOUT? I have nothing in common with the people around me. I'm a mute freak and aside from the occasional soft answer to a teacher's question, none of them can say they've really ever heard my voice.

But math is nice, calming even. I like the quiet little satisfaction I get from each time I solve a problem. It's like a victory, proof that I can do something right. Proof, amidst all of the people who try to convince me otherwise.

Lunch is my least favorite time of day. My new hiding place should prove more successful than the others, no one goes in the gym closets when there isn't a class or anything. I go to my locker to grab my lunch (peanut butter and Jam, like always) where I find Sheila Thompson leaning against it, obstructing my path.

"Well, if it isn't little Orphan Annie. What scraps have you got for lunch today rag bag?"

I stand there as her friends come over and she moves slightly as she turns to them. I take that opportunity to start on my lock.

"Yeah, I can't believe even an orphanage would be so cruel as to send their kids to a public school. (AKA Private school) I mean, it's obvious she can't cut it here. Even with uniforms, she still looks tacky and lower class. I guess it takes the skill of a scholarship student to be able to look worse off than an entire school wearing the same uniform. I mean,that hair looks like it hasn't seen a comb for... well, forever."

She flips her hair and leans backwards, shutting my locker just as I'm about to reach for my sweater. I decide I don't really need it and head for my lunch spot. They're following me, so I go into the counseling office; the one place they will never follow me.

"Elizabeth Stevenson, do you need something sweetheart?" I like the secretary, she treats me the same as everyone else. even if it might seem slightly patronizing to some, teh fact that she's consitent with how she treats people gives me a lot of comfort. Plus, she's an older woman so she knows what she's doing.

"No. Cuh-Can I use the buh-back d-door?" I do this sometimes, most kids aren't allowed to use it, but the secretary makes an exception. I get along much better with adults than I do with my peers. The door leads to the inner courtyard, which leads to the cafeteria.

"Sure sweetie, if those girls bother you, don't hesitate to talk to me, okay?" This startles me; I didn't know she knew.

"How.?"

"Oh, I know EVERYTHING that goes on at this school. You get that way after twenty five years in the same position. Believe it or not, you're not the only one in a similar situation. Anyway, have a good lunch, okay dear?"

"Yes'm." I nod and take the back exit.

Lunch was quite and uneventful that day until an unfamiliar voice popped into my head.

_Why do you let them do that?_

**_Hmm? I don't know. I just don't like confrontations. _**

_Oh. Me neither._

Then my mind was quiet. I don't know why I answered like that, so normally. It wasn't my voice I'd heard, but I guess it had just seemed so... natural to answer. Was I slightly confused, yes. Bothered, not much.

_Sorry if I disturbed you._

**_It's okay. _**

I don't know why, but talking to myself in my mind suddenly reminded me of Chris and I started thinking about him. My best friend, we were both in the same boat,but he'd been sent to a different Secondary school so we only saw each other sometimes when I was back at the adoption center. Orphanage was an outdated word, the center was really nice... and Miss. Karen was such a kind woman. But... it wasn't a home. Not really. I hadn't had one of those since I was four...

Mommy don't go! 

Sweetheart, I'm sorry but mommy has work...

But I wanna go with you!

Sorry baby, your daddy and I aren't allowed to bring a little girl along with us on this trip-

I neverrr get to go! Why can't I mommy? Mommy?

... It's complicated. When your older, I'll explain.

She never did. Neither did dad...

"Hey, you, you can't be in here!"

I opened my eyes to see that my hideout had been discovered by the gym assistant. He had a bag of basketballs. Oh well.

"S-Sorry sir."

"It's okay, we just aren't allowed to let kids stay in here."

"I understand." No expression. Emotions hidden. If you show how you're feeling, they'll be curious. They'll ask questions.

_But they can't help you if they don't ask questions._

_**There's nothing they can help.**  
_

_But you're so upset, if they can't see that then-_

_**Then I don't have to talk to them. Who are you, anyway?**  
_

_Oh, I'm Ca- Matthew Williams. _

_**Oh. What are you doing in my head?**  
_

_Sigh, long story._

_**I have time. **  
_

_... Less than you think..._

That was five months ago. Now I'm walking the empty streets as usual; the school doesn't mind if I go out past curfew. They just turn a blind eye. I can't sleep at the school, my room is near Sheila and Trish's so I can hear them text and giggle all night long. Plus my roommate, Sarah, snores and talks in her sleep. Instead, I've developed a little bit of insomnia.

It's about two in the morning and my quiet mental conversation with Matt on the street bench is suddenly interrupted by a yell from the house down the street. I stand up and look over in fright, my hands reaching into my pocket to grab my cellphone, when a figure flies out the window, landing in the lawn with a groan.

"Jesus! DO somethin' about the kid, would ya Wales!" The figure roars, just as another figure leaps out the broken window and runs down to the gate, struggling with the lock.

"Barbara!"

"Coming, hold your horses." The one called Barbara hoists the other (a small child?) over the gate and onto the pavement. She goes to climb it as well when the fist figure reaches her and grabs her leg, "Unhand me you sorry drunkard!" Oddly, the first does. Strange, her voice seems different from before-

"Lookout!" Something/ someone crashes into me and we both fall to the sidewalk, "Yeesh, sorry lady. Oh..."

I stare at the dwarf who stares back, butterflies in my stomach. There's something oddly familiar about him-

"Run Sean run! He's more dangerous than usual!"

"Why, he seemed perfectly sober-"

"That's just it! The man's a raving lunatic, excuse me miss." 'Barbara' grabs 'Sean's arm and tugs him across the street to a car that has been there for six months. Then they get in and the girl puts in the keys. Both are kids like me. OMG, those gits are stealing a car!

* * *

**London England: A little past mignight**

**_So. How does it feel to be doing a B and E on your own house?_**

_I told you; we are not breaking and entering; simply slipping in to get some necessary items and getting out. This isn't a robbery._

_**Uh huh. That explains why you had me dress all in black and bring a wrench with me. **  
_

_Precautions!_

_**In case of what? A leaky sink pipe? Or do you want me to hit your brothers (or whatever they are) over the head for you?**  
_

_No; I want you to avoid them. Stealth is crucial in this mission-_

_**James Bond much?**  
_

_Shut up, I don't want you running into ANY of the other members of the UK, okay? That would be an... awkward... situation._

_**Hmm... let me guess; you don't want them to-**  
_

_I'm not a pervert!_

_**I was going to say "worry about you," but yeah. I guess that would be a concern.**  
_

It was a little after midnight and I was tired. Nevertheless, I had to admit I enjoyed the rush I got from this "top secret mission." It was like when I was a little kid and my cousin and I were spying on the grownups with his "high tech spy gear." (they knew we were there but humored us by pretending) Only this time it was real. I just hoped I didn't fall down any stairs and wind up crying like a baby this time.

_Heh heh, when was this?_

_**Save it Sherlock.**  
_

We were in London, near Soho in a quieter (and older) part of town. Eng- Arthur's house was in the historic district (big suprise) and was a 19th century two story Victorian. I like old architecture and houses have always caught my eye. This one was very nice; a bit tight with only a small garden, but the work was nice and obviously well kept.

_**Nice house.**_

_Thanks. I prefer the one in the country, but this one has a lot of history to it. The door is pass-code activated. You'll find the panel behind the hanging basket._

_**Overkill much? **  
_

_It (for the most part) keeps out unwanted visitors. (like Francis)_

_**You really don't like that guy, do you?**  
_

_Oh more than you know, love. I hope you never have to meet him.  
_

_**But... aren't we going to try and find him after this?**  
_

_... Shit.  
_

I rolled my eyes and snuck up to the front porch. Arthur really was not good at thinking things through. Better than Alfred, from what I'd heard and knew from American history, but still pretty oblivious. Especially since it turned out the plant in the hanging basket had died and been taken over by ivy which was starting to stick to the wall. I pulled it off and searched for the panel. _  
_

"Oh hey, it's like one of the ones they use in nursing homes," I whispered, "Fitting, right me olde pal?"

_Hardy har har. Just type in the password. It's B period ANGEL_

_**Bangle?**_

_Britannia Angel. Hurry, I don't know if Scott's out at the pub tonight and if he is, he'll see you when he comes back with Will._

_**Will? You Mean-**  
_

_Different Will. He's had the name MUCH longer than Penny. Entered it?  
_

**Yup.**

I tried the doorknob, but it wouldn't budge. "Umm..."

_Crap! They must have changed the password after I... dissapeared._

_**Should I try something else-?**  
_

_No. If you enter the wrong code enough times, an alarm goes off in the house. That way if one of us is drunk and trying to get in, it will at least let someone know we're out here so no... ah, incidents, occur.  
_

_**Like?**_

_Never mind. That's why I had you bring the wrench.  
_

**_Yay, now we're OFFICIALLY going to jail. _**

According to Arthur, there was a door in the back that only had a normal lock. He told me to use the wrench and break the lock. I instead succeeded in ripping the knob off the door. It at least got us inside.

_**You guys don't have a security system... right?**_

_Well, we DIDN'T. We had talked about it, but considering that all the newer models call in direct to the police and we try to keep under the radar, it wouldn't have been the best thing.  
_

_**Speaking of which, you said something about being drunk... why did you make the lock so difficult and hide it if you guys wouldn't be able to get in.**  
_

_Because we have old, ah... trophies in the house. If it weren't so dark you'd be able to see them. Swords, some ceremonial knives that Ireland and Scottland used to use. They're blunt, but not blunt enough to prevent injury ( take a right up here)if a certain Scottsman goes nuts on a stuffed buck head with one and knocks it off the wall violently while breaking some of my favorite china and getting Wal- Will in the eye on his now we just wait on the porch until morning, unless someone brings us home. Up these stairs, Love. My room is the third on the left.  
_

_**Gotcha. So what antics have you gotten up to when drunk my dear friend?**  
_

_*cough* Eh... things. Here it is! No time for chatting, Better get busy!  
_

It wasn't a very large room, but still nicely furnished. At least, I figured it was. Captain paranoia wouldn't let me turn on any lights, or even use the cheap one dollar flashlight he'd packed with my stuff. I mean, it wasn't even my good one.

"Ow." I mumbled, bumping into something with my knee.

_Shh. Side dresser, bottom drawer. That's where my credit card and wallet are. Passport too. _

_**Got it. Anything else? **_I put the goods into my coat pocket.

_Yeah, other side of the bed, in the wardrobe. _

_**You want me to pack Narnia?**  
_

_Yeah. Sometimes you need magical worlds when on the run. No; just my shirt and ascot._

_**Okay, really? We broke into your house for that? What even is an ascot?**_

_It's my favorite shirt, okay? Besides, it has special qualities that might make it useful to have._

_**Like pixie dust.**  
_

_Sure. Just, please Baby? _

_**Fine. **  
_

I grabbed the shirt and thingy magigger (ascot: AKA pompous scarf) and stuffed them in my coat. That was it, now it was time to get out of here. I took a step toward the door and froze. A muffled groan came from the direction of the bed. _**Uhh...**_

_Probably nothing... just keep moving._

Nonetheless I stayed in the shadow of the wall as I scootched toward the door. Unfortunately, there was some wall decoration or something sticking out that proceeded to jab me in the back.

"Ack!" It was quiet, and I winced in silence, cursing in my head.

_What was that?_

_**What?**  
_

"Ngggh." A figure sat up in the bed, rubbing it eyes and blinking at me. My heart beat spiraled out of control and I felt the now familiar sensation of being possessed.

"Scott is that you?" A groggy child's voice asked as its eyes gained focus and widened.

I felt myself rush to the bed and saw my hand stifle his coming yelp. But what neither of us expected was what happened when the bed's second occupant cracked me over the head with a digital clock. The last thing I remember was looking up to find a little blond boy glaring at me.

"Peter?"

And then I blacked out.

* * *

"Hullo again! My, we just keep bumping into each other, da?"

"Oh. Hey Ivan." I looked around my dream world in frustration. I just don't get it.

This is the second time that Ivan has been in my mind. The first was last night when Arthur took over. That was the main reason I hadn't noticed that he had until I woke up. I'd been scared, not knowing what had happened to him, but now I think I'm starting to understand.

"So, when he's in control and I fall asleep, I meet you here? Is that it?" I'm not really asking him, moreso myself, but Ivan answers anyway.

"Da. Luke's like it. Of course, I tink it only works when my "friend" is sleeping too."

Last night I had attacked him, thinking he had kidnapped Arthur or something, only to learn that Ivan is the personification of another country that is missing it's body: Russia.

"What's happening to you guys? Why, all of a sudden. are your bodies just failing you or something?"

He looked confused, "Huh? What do jou mean?"  
"I mean," I sighed, not sure WHAT I mean, "Arthur says that when a nation's human body is temporarily unavailable or damaged, your souls get separated from it and reattach or something. So why are so many of you dying at the same time? Is it global warming or something? You, Al and Arthur makes three so-"

"Ah. Let me ask you a question, Arthur has not told jou what happened?"

"No, he won't talk about it. Why? Do you know?"

"Da, if it eez the same thing that happened to me, he was probably murdered," Even though it was matter of fact and emotionless, the statement made my blood run cold.

"WHAT? You were MURDERED?"

"Well, da. I think from what you've told me I was more conscious at the time than the others. I think I managed to get a few shots to make him remember me by. His buddy will not be waking up anytime soon. Kolkolkolkol..."

"B-but, did he know? I mean did he know you were-"

"A nation? Da he kauled me Russia."

"Then someone is... killing all the nations?"

"Oh no," He shook his head, smiling. The dream started to fade and I grabbed on to it desperately to hear his last words. I NEEDED to know this! "As far as I can tell, he's only targeting the Gr-"

* * *

Bam! The lights tortured my eyes as they blinked open and awake to see a scruffy readhead staring at me from overhead.

"Ha she's wakin up! Toldja the scotch would work!"

"DAMMIT!"


End file.
